During the winter, I stopped, just before putting this piece of wood in the woodstove and saw how it was really a goddess waiting to be awoke.
So I went looking for this hunk of marble that I knew was in the yard somewhere, found it and asked Ray, who made the work table for my studio, if he could drill two holes in it.
He did and then I used two long screws to attach the piece of wood (one under each leg) to the marble.
Since then, she’s been on my computer desk in my studio, waiting to emerge.
At one point I draped the stings of button over her shoulders. They came from a piece I never finished and they looked right on her, but she still needed a head.
It was just a few days ago when I saw the old hand rake, that was in the barn when we moved to the farm, on the front porch.
I always saw it as a hand and even offered it to Ed Gulley, my our friend, the farmer and artist, who died last year. But Ed had a feeling I’d find a use for it.
I think it’s because I always though of as a hand that the idea that it was also a head didn’t occur to me. Not until I walked out onto the front porch last weekend and saw it sitting on the wicker table along with a small garden shovel, where it’s been all winter.
Suddenly, the fingers became hair, the palm of the hand, a face, and the handle, a neck.
Yesterday, when I should have been tacking my Emily Dickinson Secrets quilt, I drilled a hole in the handle of the old hand rake and found a screw just the right length, then attached the goddesses head to her body.
There’s still more to do.
She already has a vulva (you can see it in the bark between her legs) but she needs breasts and a bellybutton. Maybe some decoration on her body. I don’t see a face yet, I don’t know if she needs one. Maybe just eyes if anything.
She’s slow in becoming, but we’re in no hurry.
She’s been a reminder for me to trust in the creative process and to allow things to come in their own time.